Paralyzer
by permafrostislost
Summary: Sent on a job by Chuck, Dean finds himself forced to sing ("Paralyzer" by Finger Eleven) and sees a face in the crowd that he doesn't expect.


Dean's phone buzzed loudly from the hotel's side table, waking him from his nap. He leaned over and checked the caller ID. "Chuck?" he mumbled sleepily. "Hey Dean." "How's it going? Everything ok?" "Yeah, everything's, well no actually not really. I had a vision. I have a job for you and Sam if you're in the area." Immediately he felt more alert. "What kind of vision? What are we looking at?" "I can't tell what it is but it's major and you and Sam gotta get there quick. Downtown Chicago." "You got anything for us to go on, demon, vamp, shifter?" "Well that's just it, I don't know. I've only gotten glimpses, all I know is that it's in human form and it's got the bluest eyes I've ever seen. There have been disappearances lately all based around this bar, I'll text you the address." "Alright we'll check it out. Thanks Chuck."

Sam, having just gotten out of the shower, toweled his damp hair and asked, "What was that about?" "Chuck had a vision and says there's a bar in Chicago with some kind of boss level baddie we gotta take care of. He's not sure what we're up against but it looks like our kind of thing." "Ok, let me grab my stuff." Together they gathered their gear and took off. Several hours and a couple soft rock marathons later the sun had gone down, and the boys pulled into an almost completely packed parking lot. They wedged their way inside the cramped bar and attempted to make their way through the crowd. As they walked, they noticed almost every eye flick towards Dean. "What is my fly down or something?" As they passed the bartender, a large bald man but with plenty of facial hair to make up for it, called out at them, "Hey! It's Karaoke Keith! How you doing buddy? Can I get you anything? A little pick me up to calm the nerves?" "Keith? What kind of-" Sam interrupted, "Two beers please." The bartender eyed Sam. "I don't know if I've seen you before, what's your name?" "Oh, I'm Sam, Keith's manager, nice to meet you." They shook hands. "Manager, eh? Well the beers on the house Sam. Your client really draws the crowds, you've hitched your wagon to a real star!" Sam laughed easily, "I sure did!" He passed over the beers and Sam smiled and thanked him. Dean still slightly dumbfounded allowed Sam to guide them to a table on the far wall and they did their best to avoid the gazes of passers by. "You wanna tell me what the hell that was?" "Look man, we have no idea what we're up against. At this point blending in is our best option. If that bar tender wants to treat us like we're family, might as well play into it, he'll probably be more willing to give us an insight on the disappearances." "Keith though?!" Sam snickered and took a sip of beer, "Sorry about that." A woman with ruffled bun and thick glasses that were slightly askew nearly ran into their table as she started speaking very quickly to Dean, "Keith! There you are! Look I know you like to sit and relax with a beer before the show but you're on in 10! We gotta get you backstage so down what you've got and meet me there in 5. Please don't be late, they don't like to be kept waiting," she said gesturing toward the audience. "See you in a bit!" She disappeared as quickly as she had arrived. "What the hell man, I can't actually go on stage! I'm no actor!" Sam turned around. He saw a single microphone on a stand. "You won't have to act. Didn't you hear what the bartender said? _Karaoke _Keith." All the color drained from Dean's face. "Dude. No. No friggin' way." Sam leaned forward. "But think about it Dean, this is perfect. Every eye'll be on you. You'll be able to check out the crowd from on stage and I'll cruise around during your," Sam had to stifle a laugh. "...performance. It's the perfect way to scope out our target." "But-" "Look Dean, it's Karaoke, not Broadway. I'm sure you can handle it. Besides, I've heard you sing while you're driving, you'll be fine. Just pick something you know. If we don't blend in they'll get suspicious, you just gotta take one for the team." "Can't I-" "And from the looks of it," Sam glanced at his watch. "you better be getting yourself backstage before that girl comes back here and drags you away herself." Sam stood and helped Dean to his feet, flattened the collar of his jacket, and gave him a slight push toward the stage door.

After he was satisfied his brother had made it back stage, Sam quickly scanned the room until he found what he was looking for. He approached a table with a solitary dark hooded figure. Sam eased himself into the chair opposite him. The man was sitting quietly and sipping on something that looked like it belonged in the hands of a college sorority girl. "Chuck." Chuck lifted the sunglasses he was wearing to meet Sam's gaze. "Sam. He didn't see me did he?" "No, I don't think so. Sunglasses, indoors? Bit excessive don't you think?" "I'm not taking chances on this. It's too important that they meet. You have no idea how much depends on these two." "Well we got him this far, we just gotta hope phase two'll work out." "Well, cheers." Chuck lifted his glass. "To fate." The two men's glasses met with a small clink.

Backstage Dean's palms had begun to sweat. He was more nervous than he would have expected from himself. It was just some stupid bar with people that he would never meet again. What the hell was he freaking out about? After all, it was all just another job, no big deal. Still he couldn't shake the wave of emotion that wouldn't stop churning in his gut. The ruffled girl from earlier now had a headset and was speaking into in quickly. "Ok," she said turning to Dean, "What's it gonna be tonight Keith?" Dean sincerely hoped that the original Keith had a voice similar to his own. His tone tended to be a bit lower and a bit rougher than most peoples. "Uh, I was thinking 'Paralyzer' by Finger Eleven." She spoke into the headset, repeating the song title and artist. She paused. "Yep, looks like we got that one. Ok, they're gonna give you an intro and then you can just go on stage and do your thing. Break a leg!" She scurried off. Dean was left to peak through the curtains out onto the audience. He tried to find Sam in the crowd but couldn't see him. "Where the hell is that kid?" Then a voice that seemed to come from every direction said, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, the man you've all been waiting for, Mr. Keith Karaoke!" The crowd irrupted as Dean nervously took the stage. Moments after he got himself aligned in front of the mic, the familiar guitar rift started. Dean tried to imagine he was back in the impala driving down some empty stretch of road with only the wind and a sleepy Sam as an audience.

["_I hold on so nervously, to me and my drink, I wish it was cooling me. But so far has not been good, it's been shitty and I feel awkward as I should. This club has got to be, the most pretentious thing..._"]

His hands shook slightly as they held on to the mic. As the chorus began Dean did his best to scan the crowd and tried to remember he was on a job.

"He's got a great voice," Chuck said, sipping his drink. "Are you sure this is gonna work?" Sam said, watching his brother. "No." Chuck replied. "But when have we ever been sure?"

The crowds cheers and whoops were not helping Dean concentrate on his task and he found it hard not to get lost in the familiar melody. As he relaxed into the song more he was able to connect with the audience. The crowd was loving it. He was pretty sure the intense stare he was using was causing some of the ladies' hearts to race. Maybe that's what was making him nervous, all these women watching him. Then he noticed a man in about the third row who was staring at him like he was his next meal. After being a hunter for so long Dean knew that look, it was the look a predator gave to it's pray before it was about to pounce. Dean tried to stay calm but was found that his heart had seemed to double in pace. He was positive he had found who they were looking for. If only there was someway to get Sam's attention. Even though he couldn't see Sam, Sam could see him. He resolved to hold this guy's gaze as much as possible without raising the audience's suspicions. As the chorus began, he sang the last couple of lines directly at the man.

[_...if your body matches what your eyes can do, you'll probably move right through, me on my way to you_.]

"I think he found him," Chuck said craning his neck. "I think so too," said Sam grinning. As Dean sang the chorus Sam and Chuck's eyebrows raised. "Holy crap," Chuck mumbled, "I think I just got the chills." Sam's grin spread even wider. "Bingo."

Dean hoped that Sam was getting his signal. Damn this guy would probably kick his ass in a staring contest. As the lights pivoted, they would alternate shinning towards Dean and then back at the crowd. It was then that Dean saw for a split second a light beam directly hit this guys face. _Blue._ Very blue. That was it. Dean should probably just take him down now. No, bad idea. Besides, what would he do in front of a crowd of people, just tackle the guy? That wouldn't be suspicious at all. Dean instead focused on memorizing as many details about the guy as possible in case he made a run for it. Dark hair, medium build, light skin, and a gaze that would cause even the toughest of men to proceed with caution. He was wearing what looked like a Carmen Sandiego trench coat and a blue tie. Who the hell was this guy? As the final chorus began, the audience started clapping along to the beat, causing Dean to momentarily loose his focus. He smiled out of the corner of his mouth and felt the notes pound out of him like thunder. He looked back at the man. He wasn't clapping but, was it just Dean or did his eyes seem to grow wider?

[_You probably move right through, me on my way to you!]_

The song ended and the room exploded with sound. The crowd was clapping and yelling and someone in the back could be heard wolf whistling. Dean smiled and nodded and gave the audience a lazy salute. The emcee came out and raised Dean's hand, "Karaoke Keith everybody!" Dean gave a, "Thanks guys," into the mic and exited the stage.

"Was that whistle really necessary?" Chuck asked. "Definitely."

Dean knew that facing this thing head on in a crowd like this was a bad idea. Better to have him and Sam cover the front and back entrances and wait for him to leave. They both had a small arsenal on them with the ability to take down any number of monsters. He would have to find Sam quickly and get him up to speed. Dean found his way through the unfamiliar darkness and made his way down a few steps out on to the main floor. He did his best to go unnoticed but he was finding that impossible. What with all the "Way to go Keith!" "That was one hell of a performance man, how do you do it?" It was too much, there was no way he could find Sam so quickly after getting off stage and get a plan set, there were just too many people, the crowd was too hyped. Dean decided to head for the bathroom. Maybe splashing some water on his face would help him relax a bit and give the crowd some time to focus on something else. There was a small sign labeled bathrooms with an arrow pointing to a dimly lit hallway. "Sorry Sammy, just give me a minute," he said to himself. He entered the mercifully empty bathroom and turned the squeaky faucet on and splashed a few handfuls of cold water on his face. He took in his own reflection in the slightly warped mirror. Performing on stage was one hell of a rush. Ganking monsters, sure, but singing like that, man, he'd never done anything like it. He might have to do that again sometime. He opened the door to leave when not two steps into the hallway he noticed a figure standing in the shadows, facing him. Neither of them moved. That coat. Clearly this wasn't going to happen on his terms. The man took a step into the light. Chuck was not kidding. Those were some blue eyes. Dean had never seen anything like them. "I've been looking for you," the man said. Damn and he thought _his_ voice was low. "Yeah well nice to know I have a fan." Under his jacket the grip on Ruby's knife tightened. The man's eyes flickered to the spot where Dean's held onto the blade handle. "You misunderstand me, I'm not here to harm you." Dean's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Heard that one before sunshine." "Dean, my name is Castiel, and I've been waiting a very, _very_ long time to meet you." "How do you know my name?" The man looked over his shoulder. "It isn't safe here." The man took a step forward just a Dean lunged the knife at him. He blocked his attack easily and touched two fingers to his forehead.

The first thing Dean noticed was the smell. The air was salty and thick with fog. He looked around and noticed they were on a dock with a few orange lights hanging and swinging lazily in the slight wind. "What the - Where the hell are we?!" "San Francisco," the man replied. "I am sorry about that, it was necessary. I just didn't want to be over heard." "There's no way we're in- " Dean's gaze shifted as the fog began to clear. The glowing towers of the Golden Gate Bridge appeared, her lights reflecting off the rippling water. "Oh." Ok that narrowed it considerably. Not many monsters could teleport. Dean pulled out his phone. "I'm afraid that won't work here, I chose this location carefully." "Alright," he said, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "I don't know who you are or what you want but you got about thirty seconds to explain before I take this knife and carve my name in your throat." The man's head tilted slightly. "I already told you, my name is Castiel. And there is no need for violence, why would I ever raise a hand against you?" Dean's eyes widened, "Why don't you tell me? What'd you take me here for? Kill me and then dump my body in the Bay? Or were you planning on eating me first and letting the water clean up your mess?" Castiel looked at him with obvious concern. "Dean -" "And how do you know my name?!" "_Dean_." The man's voice deepened and Dean got quiet. "Your brother didn't tell you?" "_Tell me what_?! What's Sam got to do with this?" "Oh. That complicates things. I supposed I'll have to give you the shortened version. It was foretold by God that you I are destined for one another." "I'm sorry, God said _what?!"_ "You see," he paused as if gathering his thoughts. "In this world there are certain, events that have been planned out since before time even existed. There are people whose destinies are interwind, whose fates depends on one another. Granted there are very few, the last one was over two thousand years ago. We are to become like any matched pair you can think of. Friends, siblings, lovers, whatever you wish to call it. We have been chosen for one another." "You'll have to give me a minute because I'm still hung up on the God thing. What kind of a crack pot lunatic fed you this story?" "The same man who called you and told you there was a job for you in that bar in Chicago." Dean just stared at him in stunned silence. "Ch-_Chuck?!"_ "Yes Dean, the very same. That man is the form God choses to temporarily inhabit to convey divine messages to the physical world." "There's no way that Chuck is God's all holy meat suit." "I realize you must be overwhelmed at the thought. I know this is a lot to take in." Dean mumbled to himself, "You can say that again." "I know this must be a lot to take in." Dean stared at him, utterly baffled by the man standing before him. After a moment he finally said, "Prove it." "I'm sorry?" "There's no way I'm buying any of this without some solid proof." "Was teleporting you across country in a matter of milliseconds not enough?" "As a matter of fact no. Demons can teleport. How the hell am I supposed to trust any of this? How am I supposed to buy that we're some destined celestial match?" Cas took a step forward, the light from the dock flickered as Castiel's posture grew straighter, his shoulders broadening. For a split second Dean made out the outline of massive shadows raising up from the middle of Castiel's back, stretching ten feet on each side. "I am an angel of the Lord Dean Winchester," he took two large steps towards the man, closing the space between them. "And you and I are meant to be," Castiel leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean's. Dean had been kissed before, plenty of times by many beautiful women, but they were nothing, _nothing_ compared to what was happening now. A warmth spread throughout his body and filled him up until he thought he would drown in it. His entire body felt like a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Everything he had noticed before, the cold, the wind, had been turned off like a light. The only thing he could feel was the warmth from the man now leaning into him, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck pulling him closer. Dean had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been a few seconds, or perhaps several moonlit evenings. Eventually they broke apart. Castiel took a step back from Dean. Both men were breathing rather heavily. "That was..." "I'll give you some time to take this all in. I'll see you soon Dean Winchester." Castiel reached out his arm and placed two fingers on his forehead. In less time than it took to blink, Dean found himself in the parking lot outside the bar. He turned around to find Sam leaning against the impala, grinning hugely. "So, how'd your first date go?" "You knew!" Sam laughed, "Of course I knew. Somebody had to make sure to get you to that bar." "I'm gonna kick your ass so hard your grandchildren'll feel it!" "Settle down Romeo, we've got a lot to talk about. Get in the car, I'll take you back to the motel. You're in no position to drive." Dean wanted to argue but Sam was right. After the multiple teleportations he was beat. But it was more than that. Dean felt a loss, an ache in his chest that he couldn't place. It reminded him of what it felt like to be sitting in an idle car for a while and then killing the motor. It's like his body had been humming the last few minutes and now it was just, off. "You're lucky I feel like shit right now."


End file.
